No one Else to Blame
by BoogaHP1D
Summary: He needs help… and no one's there…He needs love… and no one's willing to give it… He needs someone to care… but no one does… and he can't keep passing the blame…


_**Warnings: Depression, Cutting, some language, and a Suicide Attempt**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I do not own glee...**_

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'He knows he's unloved. He knows no one wants to love him. He knows no one will ever love him. That doesn't mean it hurts any less. Sometimes knowing is worse than not knowing. Because you have to live with it. And being unloved is something that no one should have to live with. But he does. Somehow, he manages to get up every day and pretend. Pretend he feels loved, and wanted. And somehow, no one seems to notice. No one notices the cuts. No one notices the bruises. No one notices the dark, tired eyes, how he hunches in on himself, the forced smile. And he knows why they don't notice. They don't notice because they don't care. And it hurt like hell to know that. That the people who call him family don't give a shit about him, and they don't have the decency to tell him. They all think he's a mistake, a screw-up, a failure, Worthless. And it's hard. It's hard knowing no one loves you. But he deals with it, for the hope that someday, someone will. Because he knows, deep in his heart, that everyone deserves to be loved, even himself.

It's halfway through senior year when he knows his life is really falling apart. He's failing a lot of his classes, pushing away all of his "friends", scars litter his skin. He's already halfway through a bottle of Jack Daniels in his room on a Friday Night, and has another one lined up just in case. He really doesn't know what to do. He's so lost. He doesn't know who to call, who to talk to. Santana, Quinn, Artie, Mike, Finn, and Sam couldn't care less. Mercedes, Rachel, and Tina would treat him like a kid. He hardly knows Blaine. And Sugar, Brittany, and Rory would be confused. Mr. Schue was definitely not an option. Puck didn't need another adult on his back about all of his shit. He already had his mom screaming at him everyday. He didn't need someone else telling him how much of a failure he was. He decides to call Kurt. He isn't really sure why. He tells himself that it's because Kurt's dealt with this stuff before. He knows that isn't the real reason. He thinks that it's because he just needs someone to talk to. He needs someone to care, even if it's not real. The line picks up and he's still wondering why he's calling.

"Hello?" He waits, not really sure of what to say. "Hello?" Kurt checks the caller ID and sighs. "Puck? Why are you calling me?" He sounds frustrated, so he hangs up. He takes another few sips of Jack Daniels as his phone rings. It's Kurt.

"Sup, Hummel?"

"Puck, Why'd you call me?"

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did. You called and then hung up… Are you drunk?"

"And why would you ask that?"

"I can just tell...do you need someone to come pick you up? I can call Mr. Schue if you want?"

"Nah, I'm in my room. Don't need to call Schuester."

"Then why did you call me?"

"Not really sure. How bout I call you back when I have an answer…"

"Whatever...I have to go...American Idol is on…"

"You watch that shit, man?"

"Of Course...who wouldn't want to look at Ryan Seacrest all night."

"Uh...me?"

"Goodbye Puckerman."

"Night Hummel…" He hears a beep as the call disconnects. Great. He calls the one person who might understand him and he blows it. Great goin' Idiot. He stands up from his floor and walks into his bathroom, where he sits on the toilet seat. He isn't sure how long he stares at his razor for, but he knows that it's a really long time. He hears his mom come into the house and walk straight into her room, not even acknowledging her only son. He knows that he should be out, it's a fucking Friday night of course, but he really doesn't have any friends to hang out with. Maybe if he did, he wouldn't be feeling so shitty. But, he didn't, and he kind've had to live with that. He grabs his razor and heads back into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed. The emptiness he feels inside can't really be explained. It aches like a bitch, but has sharp stabs running through his heart. It's extremely unpleasant, but he really doesn't give a shit. He starts to retrace all of the open and closed scars with the razor. And it's like a release. A release from the world where he's unloved, to the world where he is. He doesn't realize how deep he starts to cut, before there's blood all over him. He still doesn't really care. He puts the razor down and spreads himself out on his bed, knowing his mom won't come check on him, he'll clean it up later. He's really fucking tired now. But it's a weird tired. A bad tired. It doesn't feel right but he can't bring himself to get up. It's really uncomfortable now, and he knows that he should talk to someone, but he's so exhausted. He can't even see straight. Can't even see where his phone is. It's pretty useless now. He closes his eyes and wonders. Is this what death feels like? Am I going to die? And, honestly, he wouldn't really care. He's just waiting for death to come claim him and take him away. But he hears a noise, like a door slamming and he feels someone touch his face.

"Jesus Christ, Puck...What the hell are you doing?" The voice, seemingly belonging to Finn, seems panicked, but he can't really tell from his oblivious state.

"Kurt, go call 9-1-1...Now!"

"On it." And he hears someone rush out of his room.

"Puck, you with me man?" He tries to give a response, he really does, but he can't, so he just slightly nods his head instead.

"Fuck...Alright dude, I'm gonna start wrapping up your arms...and it's gonna hurt.." He suddenly feels a heavy pressure on his arm and moans in discomfort.

"You're gonna be ok, Puck...I promise…" It's a few more minutes before he hears noise again, and it's the sound of sirens blaring that reaches his ears.

"Finn, they're here…"

"No shit, Kurt" He pauses and takes a breath. "You stay here, I'll bring em up." He runs out of the room and he sees Kurt come into view.

"You're gonna be OK Noah...You have to be…" And it's weird. No one calls him Noah, not even his teachers. The only one who ever did was Rachel and his sister, and he can tell by the voice that it's not either of them.

He manages to croak out, "Did you just call me Noah?", before he blacks out into the darkness.

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He's not really sure when he wakes up, and he's not really sure where, But he sees Santana with her bitch face on and Quinn with tears running down her face and he knew that some bad shit must've gone down.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Santana asks when she sees his eyes flutter open. "I mean, What the fuck happened?" Then, he kind've tunes out when she starts to ramble in spanish until the rest of the club walks into the room.

"How are you feeling?" Artie asks, plastering a small, sad smile on his face.

"Pretty shitty...What the fuck happened?"

"What the fuck do you think happened," Santana starts again, "You took a fuckin' razor to your arms, bled out on the floor, and leave us all wondering why you did it." Kurt puts a hand on her shoulder, and the tension in her chest eases a little. He notices one crucial person is missing.

"Where's my Ma?"

"Uh…" Finn starts to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, "She isn't here…said something bout' how she isn't paying the medical bills and shit...she was pretty pissed."

"God, I'm fucked…"

"You can stay with us…" Berry pipes up...smiling brightly

"Want another turn with the puckster, huh Berry?" She rolls her eyes and grabs one of his hands, refusing to look at the bandages all over his arms.

"Noah, seeing as you're in a bit of a compromising situation, I'm sure my dads will allow you to stay at our house for a while, until you find something a little more permanent."

"Sure, whatever…" He fake yawns, wanting to escape the awkwardness closing in on him. "I'm a little tired, and you guys look beat too. Go home, I'll be good in a few days." Silence follows and Mr. Schue claps his hands and starts to speak.

"Let's give him some rest, I'm sure we'll come see him soon." Puck nods at his teacher and watches as all the glee members file out of the room, except for Finn and Kurt. They nod at each other and sit in the chairs next to Puck's bed.

"Why the hell are you two still here? Go home…I'll be fine…"

"You're not fine, Puck…"Finn interjects, slightly angry.

"Woah, whatever I did, I'm sorry...I just…"

"You tried to kill yourself! I can't not be upset…" Puck rolls his eyes and Finn fumes up even more.

"If you haven't noticed, you're in a fucking hospital bed, Puck! After fucking slitting your wrists open, and you don't really seem to give a shit at all…" Puck raises his voice, getting angry as well.

"And what if I don't...It's not really like I have anything to look forward to. All I get in my life is shit. No one cares about me. I'm a failure, worthless. None of you even care at all to ask if I'm ok. And honestly, I don't really care. I tried to kill myself tonight because I don't want to live, Finn. And I'm sorry that I'm not good enough and that no one loves me, but I've learned to accept it and you should to."

"What the hell do you mean no one loves you, Puck?," Finn says, tearing up, "We love you...and you're not worthless. You mean something to every person in that club."

"Yeah, you guys do a helluva job showin' it…All I ever get is shit from you guys...just once I want to be told that someone wants me...just once I want to know that someone cares...and I never get it…" Kurt and Finn look at each other, tears in both of their eyes, as the silence begins. At first it's awkward, then it's tiring, and it gets so thick that it could be sliced with a knife. Kurt takes his hand, finally, and Finn wipes his tears on his sleeve.

"We're sorry, Puck, for everything. We're sorry we didn't show that we cared, because we do, so much. And we're sorry for all of the mistakes we've made. No one deserves the life that you have, and I know that it's hard, but trust me...It gets better...Someday, you're going to find a girl who love you for who you are, and you're going to have kids that you can teach all of your tricks...and right now, you have a group of people who would do anything for you...who love you unconditionally. I'm sorry we haven't been showing it, but we will, and we can only hope that it counts."

"Thanks, Kurt." He smiles and gives a genuine yawn. There night's events really tired him out. "You guys can head home...I'll see you soon…" Finn and Kurt both stand up and start to leave.

"Goodnight Puck." Finn says as he walks out. Kurt follows behind but Puck stops him right as he's leaving.

"Kurt…"

"Puck...what do you need?"

"Why did you come over to my house? How did you know I was in trouble?" Kurt pauses and takes a breath…

"When you love someone, and you care about them, you kind've get a sense. Of when they're in trouble and stuff...that's how I knew...you didn't sound right on the phone, and I told Finn to drive me over to make sure you were ok...I guess it was my lucky day…" Puck smiles and Kurt turns back to the door.

"And Kurt…"

"Yup…" Kurt says without turning around.

"Why did you call me Noah?"

"Because it's who you are...and we all love Noah more than Puck."

Kurt leaves and Puck eases back into his pillow, ready to sleep. And he thinks to himself, "Maybe I can be loved...Maybe I am…"

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 ** _A/N: Leave a review...anything's appreciated...any suggestions? Thanks for reading!_**


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